


Something To Kill For

by dark0angel13



Series: Two halves of a whole [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 10:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20833871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark0angel13/pseuds/dark0angel13
Summary: Part two of Something To Die For, please enjoy!





	Something To Kill For

**Author's Note:**

> Part two of Something To Die For, please enjoy!

The first thing to register in her mind is pain, lingering on every nerve ending in her body like smoke on the wind, and a groan leaves her lips. It’s all a confusing haze in her head as it pounds in time with every erratic beat of her heart, and she wishes against all odds, that this was just some fucked up dream and she would wake up curled against his chest. The muted pain in her leg says otherwise and when she tries to move, another pained groan escapes her. This was definitely real. Fuck. 

It’s dark, she realizes when her eyes finally open and scan her surroundings. It’s pitch black, and she’s alone save for the thoughts swimming around her mind like sharks out for blood. The room is small, housing only the chair in which she’s bound, and a table directly in front of her. To her left, she can see the outline of a door and her heart races in her chest. She just needs to get out the door. 

She tests her restraints, a small sigh of relief swelling within her when she feels the all too familiar weight of handcuffs. Thank god. These she can get out of, and the smirk that spreads across her face when she stretches—rather uncomfortably—to get at the bobby pin she kept at her belt, is one of victory. She’s suddenly thankful for the escape lessons, because without them, she would most likely die here. It takes some time, but when one cuff clicks open, she hisses in satisfaction and goes to work to free her other hand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m coming.” she whispers against the stark silence as the cuff clatters into her lap and she’s shoving them into her back pocket as she stands, only to stumble and hit the ground hard. It’s then that she realizes they’ve taken her brace as well as cuffed her legs to the chair, and she wants to scream in frustration. She doesn’t have time for this shit, she needs to find him. 

She wastes precious time freeing her legs and by the time she scrambles to the door, shouts ring out and her heart nearly stops altogether. 

“—I say about letting him get to you?” The voice is angry but a familiar ring has her raising a brow in confusion. _There’s no way…_

“Sorry sir—“ another familiar voice and this time, she can feel the confusion morph into rage and red obscures her vision for entirely too long. 

“Don’t apologize, fix the fucking situation. He’s not talking, go get the girl.” Oh shit, they’re coming and she had maybe seconds to figure out a plan of action before the shit well and truly hit the fan. 

The muffled voices clear for a second and it’s then that she realizes they’re in the room next door. This was perfect. She moves on instinct now, Gajeel’s lessons taking over her subconscious as she cracks the door and looks around for anything to get her hands on. Above her, rests an exposed pipe and she’s hurriedly removing her belt before swinging it up and over to pull herself away from the exit. If this plan works, she’ll have to thank him for teaching her how to take care of herself. Her leg is like dead weight as she struggles to get it rested on the pipe just as a curse sounds from the hallway and the door flies open, the smack of metal reverberating through her entire body. 

“Fuck!” He yells and it’s then that she gets a good look at his traitorous face. His usually bright eyes swimming with barely controlled rage. His unkempt hair damp with sweat and she can even see his pudgy form threatening to burst the buttons on his shirt and anger rises so fast it leaves her breathless. She watches him, when he takes a hesitant step inside the room, inching ever closer to her perch. He reaches for the walkie-talkie at his hip to notify the bastard in charge that she’s escaped; said bastard yells a slew of curses and orders her to be found, dead or alive. She watches it all, biding her time because she only has one shot at this, and if she fucks it up, they were both dead. 

He stands a moment longer and shifts his weight and it’s in that moment she moves, rolling off the pipe, belt clutched in her hands as she hits him square in the back. He grunts on impact and they topple to the ground, where she uses her lithe form to wrap the belt around his throat. She’s squeezing for all she’s worth, not letting up until his body goes slack under her and she finally releases the tension in her muscles. He wasn’t dead, thank God. No, she thinks. She doesn’t want him dead yet. She wants him to suffer for what he’s done. She works expertly to cuff his hands, and after she’s taken his weapon and radio, she rolls off him and grunts when the pain overshadows the adrenaline coursing through her like a current. 

She takes a few pained breaths in before the glint of metal catches her eye and she’s resisting a victory dance because there, in the corner of the room, resting against the wall, is her brace. 

“Okay." The word seems to give her confidence and she checks the weapon she stole, sighing in relief when it has a full mag and one in the chamber. Plenty of bullets if she ran into trouble. She’s hobbling to the door, but at least she can walk mostly unencumbered. She will never regain full feeling in her leg, but the muted sensations she does have, is enough to drive her forward. She risks a glance back to the man on the floor and bile rises in their throat. She trusted him like he was family, and this was how he repaid her? Asshole. 

“Droy, you bastard…” she feels tears stream down her face but she knows they’re tears of frustration, and not from any lost love from him. He betrayed her, and she would sooner damn herself than to let him control her emotions like this. No, she thinks. The only feelings she has towards him now, were seething hatred. For him, and his partner, and rest assured, she was going to find him. 

The hallway is dark, leaving her enough wiggle room to stick to the shadows and silently press onward until she stops at the door next to hers. This is it. He’s behind this door. She checks the handle and curses when she meets resistance. They fucking locked it, and it takes entirely too long for her to fumble with the lock before that all too familiar click sounds and she’s letting out the breath she’s been holding. 

“Gajeel I—“ The words lodge in their throat when she’s met with nothing but an empty room and her heart clenches in her chest. They moved him, she realizes with sobering conviction when her eyes meet with the blood stains on the floor. He was hurt, he was bleeding. The radio crackled at her side before an arrogant voice comes through the silence. 

“You honestly think I’d put him so close to you? I know you’re smarter than that Levy.” She can picture his malicious grin in her mind and her blood boils. 

“Listen you snaggle toothed bastard, where is he?” She seethes into the radio and he has the audacity to chuckle. 

“You’ll never make it in time.” It’s a statement she hears truth in because she knows him so well. He’s not bluffing. “And if you do, you’ll arrive just in time to see him die.” 

“If you hurt him…” she can’t finish her sentence because the mere thought of life without Gajeel was enough to reduce her to tears. 

“You can stop all of this Levy,” he says with a dark chuckle that chills her to the bone. “Or, you could have if you had just picked me instead.” 

“That’s what this is about?” She yells, her knuckles white around the radio. “You’re doing this because I didn’t go out with you?” There had to be another reason. People don’t just turn into murdering psychopaths because of that. But even as she thinks it, Levy knows all too well, the possibility. Unstable mental health was on the rise in the police force and he was unstable even before joining. It was entirely possible for him to have gone off the deep end because of rejection. 

“We could have been great together Levy.” He continues on like nothing is wrong, like he’s not holding her boyfriend hostage, like she’s not scouring the building with blood lust in her eyes trying to find him. “I could have made you happy.” 

“You stalked me for three months!” She’s done with his games now. “Let me hear his voice, you asshole, or so help me I’ll put a bullet in Droy’s head right now.” She’s not sure if she could actually pull the trigger, but he didn’t need to know that. She just needed to sound believable. 

“You wouldn’t.” It’s a mix of an accusation and a question and she’s just as happy to leave him guessing. 

“Try me.” She counters evenly and pulls the hammer back. 

“Fine. You get thirty seconds. Make it count.” The radio goes silent before a gruff voice meets her ears and Levy feels her eyes water. 

“Hey shrimp,” He begins and even though she hears the pain laced in his tone, he talks like he’s picking up from a never-ending conversation. “Wanna go on a date with me?” 

The implication of what he was saying seeps into her mind and her hand clutches the front of her shirt. She knows exactly what he’s doing, and bless his heart, she prays it works. 

“What did you have in mind?” Her voice is shaky as she replies, her hand trembling around the radio. 

“I was thinkin’ right here. You, me, some beers, and a good ol’ fashioned thriller.” 

“I couldn’t ask for anything better,” she lets a laugh bubble up her throat. “What time?” 

“How does five sound short stuff?” 

“I’ll be there—“ 

“Sorry to cut this short, but he’s running out of time. I’m afraid you’ll have to take a rain check on that date.” Just like that Gajeel is gone and she’s left listening to a voice she can’t wait to hear screaming later. Thirty seconds or no, it was enough time for her to get the message. 

_Wanna go on a date?_ That’s what he said when he first asked her out, in the old precinct before they built the new one. 

_Right here. You, me, some beers, and a good ol’ fashioned thriller._ The break room on the first floor, by the drunk tank. Her, him, glass everywhere and the assailant in the room. Things were gonna get messy. 

_How does five sound short stuff?_ His location is five minutes from where she was being held. She needs to go in low, swiftly, without hesitation. 

She takes a shaky breath, willing her muscles to relax as she makes her way to him. She will always find him, like he will always find her. It was their thing. He sounded bad, his voice wet no doubt from the blood in his mouth and she swears to God, she’s going to kill them. 

She passes the drunk tank quietly, her form sticking to the wall like glue because right after is a wall of windows that enclosed the old break room. Sneaking a peak, she sees Gajeel take a hit to the gut and her hand tightens reflexively around the pistol. They were going to pay for this. She wants nothing more than to charge in, guns blazing, but she knows she’s no marksman. She needs to be closer; for her target to be stationary. She eyes the broken glass scattered around the floor and a plan forms in her mind. This should work. She’ll use the glass as a distraction, to draw his attention to the windows while she sneaks under them to go for the door, when he speaks, she’ll rush in and take him out. Hopefully. 

Her plan flies out the window when she’s blindsided, her body slamming into the wall with enough force to bring stars to her vision. Pain radiates through her like a current and she’s stunned for entirely too long before her senses come rushing back and she’s face to face with Droy. His body pins her to the wall and even without the use of his hands, he’s a force to be reckoned with. His weight is crippling and with his full attention on her good leg, the scream of agony that rips up her throat echos. 

“You’re not getting away this time, you bitch.” He hisses in her ear and his breath is stale and reeks of alcohol, causing her stomach to lurch. She can’t get to the gun at her back, his form blocking her arms expertly and she curses. 

“Keep her busy Droy, this will only take a moment. Then I’ll deal with her.” The underlying intent of his words has her blood running cold in her veins. 

“With pleasure.” Droy snickers and his leg moves between hers. Her entire body goes rigid and the adrenaline takes over, coursing through her like electricity. She’s moving out of pure survival instinct when her hand digs into his gut. He grunts in pain and she uses the distraction to wiggle out from under him, her hand reaching for the gun even as his own tries to drag her back to him by the waist band of her pants. A shriek of terror escapes her and she’s raising the gun in one swift motion. He only has time to gasp in shock, fear shinning in his eyes before she pulls the trigger. There’s an ear splitting pop, and she winces then grunts when his body collapses onto her, his weight pushing the air from her lungs painfully. Silence settles a moment later as the implications of what just happened seep into her brain. She killed him. 

“Droy?” The sounds of worry in the voice draws her attention back to the windows and she’s scrambling from under the body just in time to see a slender figure burst trough the door. “You bitch!” He’s on her before she can even react and the yelp of pain she makes when he twists her arm behind her back to rip the gun from her hand echos around her. 

He’s dragging her to Gajeel, bending her over the table before him before placing the gun at eye level, and she can feel his hands on her, making her stomach lurch with every touch he makes on her battered body. 

“Now,” he chuckles. “Who’s going to die first?” His question makes panic surge and she’s struggling under him as her eyes drift to Gajeel. He’s bound just as she was, his body battered even more so than hers, and she can see the blood staining his dark jeans. They really did a number on him. 

“Oh, I got an idea,” the gun moves from her field of vision and before she can even contemplate the possible outcomes, she feels it press into her back. “How about I make him watch?” Watch what? She wants to ask but the way his hand moves to caress her ass is all the answer she needs. 

“Don’t you touch her!” Gajeel’s voice is laced with rage but the man on top of her only chuckles. 

“You’re in no position to tell me what to do Stud Face.” His go to insult, Levy notices as she tries her damnedest not to move, because with every breath she takes, his hand runs over every inch of her body and it’s revolting. 

“Jet listen to me,” she tries to keep her voice calm. “Let’s talk about this. It doesn’t have to end this way.” But it does, and everyone knows it. It’s either going to end with him dead, or Gajeel watching as he rapes her then kills them both. She’s praying it’s the former. 

“There’s nothing to talk about Levy,” the gun moves down her back and inches up under her shirt and she sucks in a breath, the cold steel sending goosebumps rippling across her flesh. “You rejected me time and again, but spread your legs for this asshole? How fucked up is that?” _How fucked up are your actions right now?_ She wants to badly counter him, but she knows better than to antagonize someone with a gun to her back. She needs to buy time, to wait and attack when it will benefit her the most. She just hopes it’s before he has her naked. 

Her eyes go to Gajeel and she offers a small smile of remorse before mouthing an apology to him, and her heart breaks in her chest when pure, unadulterated terror flashes through is normally brave eyes. He’s afraid for her, for them both because neither can do anything about it, and she understands his agony. Then the fear is gone and rage fills his eyes. He’s got a plan, she can see it in the way his body twitches. 

The next few seconds seem to last an eternity, her surroundings move in slow motion and it’s like every fiber of her being is attuned to what’s around her. Gajeel to her right, the gun at her back and the body pressing her into the table. The hand caressing its way up her side, and the leg between hers. She feels it all. 

Gajeel moves suddenly, his body lurching in the chair and she hears Jet’s sharp intake of breath just before the gun is out of her shirt and pointing to the man she loves, and it’s in that moment—when he’s staring death in the face for her—that she moves, her body reacting on survival instinct as she twists and reaches for the gun. 

The gun goes off, and panic surges before Gajeel’s voice reaches her, signaling his safety. 

“I’m fine, get control of the situation Levy!” His words of encouragement drive her and she’s gripping the gun with both hands as she tries to pry it from Jet’s grip. He’s strong, having her beaten in height and body mass, but she’s got speed on her side, and her sudden moves caught him off guard enough for her to get this far. He grunts above her, his arm across her chest pinning her to the table as rage flashes through his eyes. She only has time to kick out with her good leg, her foot hitting him square in the balls before another bullet ricochets around them. The sound jars her ears and for a long moment she can’t hear much of anything but that’s okay. She doesn’t need to hear to know what she has to do. 

Jet stumbles back and his grip on the gun loosens enough for her to rip it from him and she’s turning it towards him seconds before he pulls his own weapon out to point to Gajeel. Her body moves before her mind has time to process and the final shot rings out. His body hits the floor a heartbeat later and Levy feels a trembling take hold of her. It’s over now. 

“Gajeel,” She drops the gun, Jet and Droy already on the back burner of her mind as she makes her way to him, his smile of pride filling her with butterflies. “I found you.” 

“I found you too shrimp.” The second she frees him, his arms go around her and she’s enveloped in his warmth and protection, and she lets her emotions take hold. She’s sobbing into him, her hands shaking as they grip his shirt like her life depends on it and he’s rubbing her back soothingly, his lips at her ear telling her how proud he is of her. 

“I thought I lost you…” 

“Nah,” he places a feather light kiss on her forehead. “I knew you’d come for me.” He’s damn right. His eyes travel past her and a sigh leaves his lips. “This entire situation is a shit storm. There’s gonna be a formal investigation of course.” He’s talking automatically now, and Levy is content to just stay in his arms forever. 

“I know,” she agrees. “What I don’t know, is why they did this.” 

“Well I’d say we could ask them, but you made that impossible.” He chuckles when she turns a light shade of red. 

“I’m sorry! They were going to kill you.” Why is she defending her actions when she knows he’s kidding? 

“They were going to do a lot worse to you Levy…” the implications of his words, and the look in his eyes show her just how afraid he was and she’s leaning up to kiss him gently. 

“Over my dead body they were.” 

“That’s my girl. I didn’t know you had it in ya. I’m proud, and turned on.” He winks and she feels her heart flutter. 

“I discovered something about myself while I saved your ass today.” She smirks when his eyebrows raid in confusion. 

“What’s that shrimp?” 

“I found something to kill for.” She kisses him again.


End file.
